When I finally gave in to that maternal side of myself that my astrological sign says is ingrained in me (despite my previous efforts to ignore it), I wore that “mom thing” like panty hose. I worked hard, wiggling and contorting myself until I finally felt comfortable in that role. Once there, I have to admit it fit me nicely. It improved me. I may have gotten carried away with that hazy, forgiving shadow motherhood casts on us moms because I began to have this ridiculous illusion that one day I would be one of those SuperMom PTO presidents.
Really now. I …read more

Nothing could have prepared me for this ritual they call the school carpool line. It was long and slow and intimidating, and yet the well-oiled PTO had it running like a front-loading washing machine. Our car was fed into a carousel of other vehicles, each stopping at a different color-coded column as a woman on a bullhorn ordered cryptic commands to the teachers hovering over the mass of kids ready to depart. “Number 35, Kindergarten, to green. Number 48, Kindergarten, to Yellow.” As if by magic, my son appeared, standing at red just as I pulled up to him. An …read more